


Losing at Hide and Seek

by Trombonesonmars



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Consensual Underage Sex, Hide and Seek, Knotting, M/M, Non-Traditional Knotting, poky things in sensitive parts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29320788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trombonesonmars/pseuds/Trombonesonmars
Summary: Unpresented Peter graciously decides to play with his older, alpha friend Troy when things go not quite according to plan.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 17





	1. Peter: Be Caught Unawares

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Flee and Get Pailed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1880412) by [Trombonesonmars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trombonesonmars/pseuds/Trombonesonmars). 



Peter: Be Caught Unawares

Impossible. Peter is totally safe in his dark, little hiding spot, busy feeling ridiculous that he’s playing such a juvenile game even though he’s already twelve years old. Technically he’s playing with his best friend, Troy, who is fifteen and therefore should be even more embarrassed, but he was the one who brought up the idea in the first place, so apparently not. Stupid alphas and their hunting instincts. Troy didn’t even have the benefit of being handsome yet. 

Peter was glad he hadn’t presented yet. Life was enough of a pain in his neck as it was without presentation awkwardness. That bit of musing aside, he’s been in his hiding spot long enough that in his boredom he pulled up Confection Crash on his phone. It’s almost as irritating as just waiting because he's lost one game after another. One of the in-game candy incendiary devices explodes and he swears more loudly than he intended.

Now he’s out of lives, great. Growling at his phone as it plays the sad, stumbling song of a failed attempt, he blacks out the screen and rests his head on his arms. It’s tiny as hell in his hiding spot, and without the distraction of mind-numbingly stupid mobile games he is becoming acutely aware of what a shitty idea hiding in this hole was. The dirt and his woolen sweater are working together to make him an itchy, sweaty mess, and his legs have gone completely numb at some point and OH SHIT they’re waking up and it hurts like hell.

Groaning, he scoots forward using his elbows and lobs his phone outside of the entrance of the burrow where he won’t crush it getting out. His curly black hair brushes the top of the tunnel, giving him a spine-crawling tingle letting him know just how trapped his body is. It suddenly feels way more claustrophobic than it had the moment before.

Digging his tan fingers into the earth, Peter pulls himself out, scrabbling on dirt and stones, his legs mostly useless for anything besides flopping unhelpfully behind him. His head finally out in the open, he breathes in the cool, somewhat misty air swirling off of the nearby creek.

Peter must have been an idiot to hide in such a shitty den no doubt abandoned by rodents who realized that the den was too shitty for even them and went on to bigger and better shitty holes in the ground. He arches his back, trying to wiggle out of there, making it deliciously pop out the kinks it had been accumulating. A few ungraceful seconds later he is over half-way out when he hears something over the gurgle of the stream that he can’t quite place.

Instinctively, he tenses up, feeling like he's being watched from behind, almost like…

“Gotcha, Peter!” A loud, pitchy voice rings out and Peter doesn't have a chance to even decide where to go when he feels large, long-fingered hands grab him under his armpits. He yelps and swings his head around to see what the fuck Troy is doing, but he is crouched down on top of him (Peter can feel Troy’s warm butt pushing down a bit on the small of his back) and he can’t see much of him other than his strong hands curled all the way over his biceps. While his friend wasn’t alpha-handsome yet, he was certainly growing into his alpha size.

Peter yelled, “Get off me he hulking beast or I will fucking go back in there and drag you through the dirt with me!”

Troy just giggles at that and bumps the back of Peter’s skull with his forehead. “As nice as that sounds, I don't think you can drag me anywhere any more than I can fit myself in that tiny hole. I’m surprised I was able to smell you at all in that dirt.”

The big lug sounds proud of himself at having figured it out. Peter hoped he didn’t smell bad to the growing Alpha, but he couldn’t really know and now felt self-conscious.

Knees shuffle forward on either side of Peter as Troy finishes dragging him the rest of the way out of his not-so-clever, dirty, scent-revealing hole in the ground. Even though no-one else was around to see, the younger boy decided to dig his still-mostly-numb toes into the dirt and slap at the hands holding him, refusing to give up the last bit of their childish game. “Come on, Troy, lemme go. I don’t want to go chasing you around the woods with no sense of smell; it’s not fair.”

The older boy stops for a second. “But Peter, that’s the game! I caught you fair and square. Wimping out now is what’s not fair!”

It was almost like the git didn’t remember what it was like to not be able to sniff down every other weirdo at the drop of the hat. That said, Peter remembered that his mom said that the other boy was having trouble making friends with the other alphas at the high school, so... Oh god DAMN it. Giving up, he slumped in Troy’s grasp. “FINE Troy, I’ll pretend-hunt you, but I can guarantee I won’t be able to find you.”

The sound of delighted laughter accompanies a short, painful hug around his rib cage, and Peter quickly finds himself dragged out of the hole and pulled upright on legs tingling so bad they feel like they’re being stabbed.

Attempting to regain some semblance of dignity, the younger boy twists his head back to look at his captor. “Alright already, let me go so we can get this super-unbalanced test of senses over with.”

Troy grins, inches from his face, blue eyes twinkling. “Sure thing! I’ll play fair, I promise.”

True to his word, Troy lets him out of his rib-cracking bear hug and turns him around to face him properly and steady him. Peter rolls his eyes. “You can let me go now, you know.”

The taller boy nods and lets him go, so of course Peter slips on the goddamn rocks like a moron because his legs are still mostly asleep. Nobody yelps attractively, but the noise he makes when his ass splashes into the ice-cold stream water is downright embarrassing. “Shit!”


	2. Peter: Be Fished Out of the Stream

Troy scrambles to get Peter out of the water, spewing what are probably swear words from high school, but Peter’s too busy flailing to listen. Despite the shallowness of the stream, he ends up getting drenched. After an interminable length of undignified behavior, he is dragged all the way out of the water and onto the relatively dry dirt a little farther away from his hiding spot.

It takes Peter a minute to realize it, but Troy is patting at him with a horrified look on his face. “Oh my god. Peter, I’m so sorry, I never meant to…”

And now it looks like the older boy is going to cry, withdrawing his hand and curling his long limbs up close to himself, making himself into a large ball of miserable, wet teenager. 

Peter breathes deeply through his nose, holds a breath, and then lets it out, calming himself. “No, it’s okay, Troy. I didn’t mean to yell at you like an asshole who can’t own up to when he falls on his own fat ass. It’s not your fault that I chose to hide in the dirt like a worm for so long half my body bailed out on me. C-come on, stop crying.”

That isn't emotion making him stutter. Seriously though, it isn’t. There’s a brisk fall breeze and Peter is wearing a very, very wet sweater and sweatpants that are now plastered straight to his skin.

Troy, on the other hand, looks like a kicked puppy, so Peter tries to give him a smile (“try” being the operative word—he's not much of a smiler at the best of times.) The teenager smiles back at him, looking relieved.

Peter's glad to see Troy's feeling better, but he himself can’t say the same thing. His legs have woken up all the way by this point, but that just means he can even more acutely feel the cold from his little romp in the stream.

Troy’s smile turns to a frown and he crawls nearer in a way some parts of the young boy registers as predatory. The older boy presses his hand against Peter’s damp forehead in such a confusingly tender gesture he swears his heart stops for a moment.

Despite his wet clothing and generally being kind of muddy from being in the dirt, Troy’s hand is warm. His eyebrows draw together and he hisses softly. “Holy shit, Peter. You’re freezing. We have to get you out of those clothes and warmed up.”  
The twelve year old’s brain has to process a few times the fact that Troy, his friend since kindergarten, just said that he needed to be naked. Yep. That’s sure what he said. “ABSOLUTELY NOT. I can just walk back home like this and get changed there.”

Troy sets his jaw and gives the younger boy a withering look. “But that’s a forty minute walk, which will suck and you’ll end up with a rash down there from walking in wet pants.”

Down there meaning… oh. Troy’s talking about Peter’s private area. And said area is not entirely sure what it thinks about being discussed so openly. Although yeah, a rash anywhere near his butt or genitals would suck.

Even though it’s Troy, the thought of someone wanting Peter naked in any circumstance makes his little prick take notice. What the hell. Just to be safe, he hooks his fingers under his sopping wet sweater and holds the hem away from him. His dick had started doing this lately and he really wished it would knock it off.

Apparently, Peter’s hesitation in supplying a comeback meant yes, you have an excellent point; I totally agree with you in Troy-world, because the boy continues. “Besides, if you warm up first, I can run back to that clearing we started the game in and pick up my coat and hat! The coat’ll be long enough on you that it should cover up anything important.”

To Peter’s horror, his “important” parts have decided that being talked about that many times in a row is definitely an invitation to come play, because this time when his prick twitches, he feels a little different in his butt; it feels warmer, slicker, nicer. His face feels warmer too, and he's sure he must be blushing.

Peter finds himself suddenly having to think very hard for a compelling reason why he should stay cold, uncomfortable, and untouched. “But… but you're wet too! If I’m in your coat, then what’ll you wear once we’re dried off!?”

Troy thinks about that for a moment and the moment Peter sees his lip twitch up on one side, he can tell he thought of something only he will think is funny. The older boy giggles. “Why, I’ll wear my hat!”

Peter somehow chokes on nothing but air as his brain conjures the decidedly un-asked for image of Troy tall, pale, and butt naked except for his old black beanie. His butt gets a little bit slicker and he tells himself furiously that he needs to get his mind out of the gutter. Troy was his friend for crying out loud!

The friend in question flops down next to him and pats his back, tilting his head down to look Peter in the eye. “Petey, come on, you’re going to get sick or hurt if you don’t get out of that mess. Here, I’ll help.”

“Troy, no!” Peter doesn't know what exactly he wants to do, but his body doesn’t move to stop his friend as Troy perfunctorily takes the hem of his sweater from him and peels it up off his skin with a gross, wet noise. The young boy yelps and covers his chest with his arms, and hunches over, shivering hard.

This, however, just makes it easier for Troy to grab Peter’s sweatpants off his butt with a slop, so he does his best to scamper away… and ends up with his pants halfway down his legs. 

From behind him, Peter hears. “See, that’s not so bad, right?”

Peter turns around to yell at Troy that of course it was, but he realizes his mistake when he sees his friend’s face go far redder than it had been as he looks down at his…. Oh hell, he's wearing wet, white underwear that leaves nothing to the imagination.

He spins around and hunkers down, hugging himself by the knees so he won’t fall over with his pants so far down. Even though he's still shivering from cold, he feels hot from his asshole up to the tips of his ears, embarrassment and arousal warring for control over his body.

Neither of them say anything. There may be some actual crickets making that noise that in movies means silence.

There is the sound of Troy standing up and padding over to Peter, and then the flump of him sitting down in the dirt directly beside him again. The young boy refuses to look at him.

Troy clears his throat like he does when he's trying to think of an acceptable way of apologizing for some inane, dumbass thing he did. He damn well better apologize, how DARE he just…

Peter eventually turns to look at Troy, trying to school his expression into something as cool and unbothered as possible. The teenager’s eyes are closed, though, and so he can’t appreciate his expression. He looks concerned and Peter is considering saying something to break the silence when the older boy blurts out, “Petey, you’re really pretty and shouldn’t feel bad!”

…That wasn’t what Peter was expecting to hear. His heart (and ass) are fluttering in very confusing, very different ways. He can’t think of anything to say, so he falls back on the old standard of “Uh.”

Troy’s eyes are still squeezed shut, flushing bright red as he continues. “You really need to warm up though, so please let me help.”

And then he fucking strips off his t-shirt to reveal his bare chest, showing the beginnings of muscle.

Peter’s recently activated hormones are pointing out that if someone that fit might be interested in being bare-chested near him, he in turn should really consider moving closer. Not knowing what to say, he mumbles, “You too.”

Troy’s blue eyes snap open and he looks heartbreakingly hopeful.

Peter stutters, looking for a follow up. “I mean, you’re pretty too? So don't feel bad? Let’s warm you up too? I don't…”

Giving up on words for the time being, Peter breathes deeply, and notices for the first time, a dark, musky scent coming from his friend. He leans over to his older friend and cautiously tugs at the waist of his wet pants. 

Troy’s blushing even harder than before, but his eyes crinkle and he opens his mouth in a little grin. “So, you know, the best way to warm up is skin to skin, right?”

Peter shrugged. That was definitely somewhere along the lines of what his body was thinking. Rolling his eyes, he tugs at the teen’s pants harder. “Let’s just do it already and quit beating off around the bush. Beating around the bush.Ugh, you know what I mean.”

And so they do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an adapted version of a previous work, so I realize there may be some inconsistencies. Please let me know what you notice (or even like, if applicable) so I can iron out the issues.

**Author's Note:**

> If you are getting a major sense of déjà vu, that is probably because this is a reworked version of an old Homestuck fic I wrote. It's been a fun writing exercise :3


End file.
